when all is at peace."

"Our king is very great, and he has many enemies."

"And who made the enemies?"

"Why, the king, to be sure."

"Then would it not be better to be without him?"

The guardsman shrugged his epaulettes in despair. "We shall both wind
up in the Bastille or Vincennes at this rate," said he. "You must know
that it is in serving the country that he has made these enemies. It is
but five years since he made a peace at Nimeguen, by which he tore away
sixteen fortresses from the Spanish Lowlands. Then, also, he had laid
his hands upon Strassburg and upon Luxembourg, and has chastised the
Genoans, so that there are many who would fall upon him if they thought
that he was weak."

"And why has he done all this?"

"Because he is a great king, and for the glory of France."

The stranger pondered over this answer for some time as they rode on
between the high, thin poplars, which threw bars across the sunlit road.

"There was a great man in Schenectady once," said he at last. "They are
simple folk up yonder, and they all had great trust in each other. But
after this man came among them they began to miss--one a beaver-skin and
one a bag of ginseng, and one a belt of wampum, until at last old Pete